


Grace Under Pressure

by IreneADonovan



Series: Rush and Beer [1]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Bonding, Drinking, Erik is a Father, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Music, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Canon, Rush (the band), dadneto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 07:14:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9645899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IreneADonovan/pseuds/IreneADonovan
Summary: Father- son bonding over good music and bad beer. Set at least a year after Apocalypse.(The album Peter's listening to came out in September of 1984.) Peter has finally told Erik he's his dad, and Erik has returned to the mansion to see him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little vignette inspired by the Rush t-shirt Peter wears in Apocalypse and the anniversary of my own discovery of Rush, five days before my eighteenth birthday.
> 
> To my surprise, what I thought was a one-shot will be a series. I've got two sequels planned, one of which will be a Peter & Erik road trip.

Peter wasn't in the mansion when Erik returned, but Storm clued him in to the spot where he liked to go when the kids' craziness got to him. Ironic, given that Peter was an overgrown juvenile delinquent himself.

Erik found the area Storm described without difficulty. A small stream ran along the north edge of the property, and once Erik reached it, all he had to do was follow his ears. The hard rock was something he would usually have dismissed as noise, but for his son's sake, he tried to listen without judgment. The music was surprisingly compelling, if less melodic than Erik's usual tastes.

Erik found Peter slouched against a tree, air-drumming a complicated rhythm. A half-empty bottle of beer sat beside him, along with a box of Ding-dongs, also half-empty. A six-pack with one empty sat near his feet.

Erik walked up to Peter, spoke his name loudly enough to be heard over the music. His son glanced up, looking momentarily guilty. He thumbed down the volume on his boombox. “What's up?”

“I'm back in town for a while. Wanted to see how you are.” Peter squirmed a moment, then shrugged and held out a beer. “Pull up a seat.”

Erik took the beer, one of those wretched watery American brands, and sat down. “Couldn't you drink something other than this horse-piss?” Erik used his power to remove the cap, took a swallow, grimaced.

Peter smirked. “It's not like I planned on company. Besides, the convenience store down the road doesn't carry anything better.”

Another swallow, which went down easier than the first. “As fast as you are, I think you could make it to a store with better beer. “

“Next time,” Peter promised. He tossed a Ding-dong at Erik, who caught it one-handed, trying not to grin too hard at the idea of a next time.

Feeling awkward, Erik began to peel the foil from the hockey-puck-shaped cake. “So what's that you're listening to?” he asked, groping for a safe topic of conversation.

It was the right question. Peter's face lit up and he leaned forward. “It's the newest album by this Canadian band called Rush. They're totally amazing. They make music that actually means something. Their lyricist is just awesome.” Peter punched a few buttons then turned the music back up, too loud in Erik's opinion, but he said nothing. “This is the first song -- Distant Early Warning.”

Erik listened, quickly getting sucked in by the layered meanings and the wordplay that challenged his knowledge of English. The words hit him like a punch to the gut -- a song warning of coming danger, but then also spoke of wanting to protect someone from that danger, then closed with a reference to Absalom, King David's rebellious son.

“Afterimage,” Peter announced as the next song began. It was a tribute to a lost loved one, and tears welled in Erik's eyes as images of Magda and Nina flashed behind his closed lids.

But nothing could have prepared him for the next song, “Red Sector A,” according to Peter. It was a song about surviving a concentration camp. A kaleidoscope of fractured images spun through his mind -- his parents, Schmidt/Shaw, his mother collapsing to the floor, bent iron gates, floating golden coins.

The tears were flowing freely as the song drew to a close. He brushed them from his cheeks as he reached out with his power and stopped the CD. He pushed up his left sleeve, showing Peter the numbers tattooed on his forearm, and said in a voice shaking with raw emotion, “Let me tell you about your grandparents.”

**Author's Note:**

> This marks my return to fanfic writing after a looooong absence and my first foray into this fandom. I have several other pieces in progress,, two that are Charles/Erik and one that is Charles/Hank, but this seemed like a way to get my toes wet.


End file.
